


Dohter's Path

by stellacanta



Series: Rewind. Reset. [2]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Spoilers, mercedes/zeph is mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellacanta/pseuds/stellacanta
Summary: Alfyn only had intended to right certain wrongs and set certain things in motion upon returning to Clearbrook. He hadn't expected things to get so complicated (and so fast).





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warnings, y’all. Since this Alfyn is from the future he brings up things that happen at the end of the game. Don’t read if you don’t want spoilers.

When he arrived at Clearbrook, it was almost as if he had never left. The small, sleepy village had a timeless quality to it. The river flowed through the town at its usual leisurely pace, and a few cows mooed at him as he entered town. In the distance, there was a large hill with a few gravestones on it. 

(Alfyn frowned when he noticed some of the gravestones were “missing”. Except, they weren’t really missing now were they?)

“Why hello there,” a friendly voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked from the hill to the kindly old farmer who was approaching him. “Don’t really get many travelers around these parts, are you another merchant looking to sell his wares?”

“You get a lot of merchants to be askin’ me that,” he asked back with a laugh. “Nah, I’m just a traveling apothecary on my way to-” Alfyn paused for a bit as he fumbled for a nearby town. “-Orewell.” He grimaced slightly at the name of the town he picked. Well didn’t that just bring up the nicest memories? “Thought I’d stop by for the night, it’s getting kinda late and all.”

“Oh! You don’t happen to be from around these parts now are you? Haven’t really heard talk like that from people who happen to be passing by. Well, now that I get a good look at ya, I can see that you don’t look like any merchant I’ve ever see. An apothecary though, ah, well you got that bag they’re always carrying around. Didn’t know that apothecaries traveled though. Thought most apothecaries liked to stick to one place.”

Alfyn couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on his face. Gods, he missed being back in Clearbrook. Everyone was so friendly and curious. And, more importantly, it was home, even if it wasn’t  _ his _ home. The smile diminished somewhat. “Eh, I grew up around here, small village a bit like this one actually. Reminds me of home, actually, being here.” He looked around and nodded a bit to himself. “I mean, most apothecaries wanna stick around and make sure that everyone around them is okay, I reckon. I felt a bit cramped stickin’ around in my village though, so I thought I might as well travel for a bit and see the world a bit. Try and learn something new if I can. I’m lucky though. A good pal of mine was also an apothecary in my village, and, well, I feel like I’ve left the village in good hands so to speak.” He couldn’t help but feel sorry for Zeph even as he chuckled. His Zeph, who was back in his Clearbrook looking after everyone while wondering what his old pal Alfyn was up to. 

(Alfyn sent a little prayer to the gods, he had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming back home to his Zeph for a long time. The satchel his friend had given him would have to stay by his side for a while yet.)

“Two apothecaries huh? Well, you sure are lucky that your pal was there otherwise I felt like no one in your village would have let you leave. Especially if you’re from around here.” It was meant as a joke, in all likelihood. Alfyn, however, being the observant guy that he was, was able to see the slight tightening in the man’s face and hear how his tone fell a bit flat. 

“From around here huh? Somethin’ getting passed around that I should take a look at? I’m feeling a bit knackered so I don’t know if I’ll get around to it tonight, but I’ll definitely be up to checking out some folks first thing in a morning if I need to.”

“I’ll take you up on that then, we have an apothecary in our village, Torvald, but he’s got enough on his plate considering his wife, Inga, is sick and he has two kids to be looking after. Zeph-” Alfyn couldn’t help but jump at that name, but if the farmer noticed he didn’t point it out. “-is such a well behaved boy, but it’s Nina, his younger sister, that I’m worried about. So young and it’s not looking good for her mother already. Feel bad putting even more pressure on him.” The farmer sighed. “Oh, but you don’t want to be hearing me talk your ear off now- err? Gosh we talked all this time and didn’t even introduce ourselves didn’t we?”

“Heh, don’t worry about it. I’ve been told I’ve just got that kinda presence that puts people at ease. The name’s Alf-” He stopped himself from saying ‘Alfyn’, remembering the words Primrose had said to them before they separated. It was best not to introduce themselves by their real names, who knows what would be messed up if they did. “-ons. Alfons Mossbriar, nice to meet ya.”

“A presence that puts people at ease huh? I believe it. Well, nice to meet you too Alfons, the name’s Lars and if you’re looking for the inn it’s just over there. Tall building just across the river by the hill, can’t miss it.” Alfyn gave a wry grin as he looked where Lars pointed. Hard to miss indeed, given the only other tall building was the general store by the river. “Kirsten at the inn will take good care of you, might even beg a few stories off of you given you’re probably her first customer in a while.”

“Heh, well if it’s stories that she’s looking for, I think I have a few that’ll satisfy her curiosity. Thanks Lars.”

“No problem Alfons, see ya tomorrow.”

He nodded and waved to the man who had walked off in the direction of what he remembered to be the village pub. Lars huh? Alfyn faintly remembered a cheerful farmer who’d sometimes give him and Zeph herbs from the medical texts they pored over. Well it was nice to see the guy again, even if he wasn’t as how he remembered him. (Only to be expected, really.) 

There was a familiar house he passed on the way to the bridge. A soft smile crossed his face as he noticed the rather large chip on the bottom of one of the shutters. Heh, he had been a rambunctious kid when he was younger hadn’t he? Ma must have had a hard time keeping up with him. 

Ma. She’d still be alive now wouldn’t she? Before he knew it, Alfyn was stopped just outside the door of the house, hand raised as if to knock. He forced himself to take a step back. What was he doing? He didn’t have time for this, besides, he was here for a reason, not to greet the ghosts of the past. Alfyn shakily sighed as he forced himself towards the bridge, just giving into the urge to rub one of the stones at the corner of the house on the way. He and Zeph had taken to doing that for luck, and heavens’ knows how much luck he needed now. 

“Dohter, give me the strength to carry on,” he muttered under his breath as he crossed the voice, looking up to the moon as if that was where the gods rested. “I just need to come here to do what needs to be done and leave. Can’t be spending my days here chasin’ ghosts and such.” He looked down. “Zeph. Zeph, I’m so sorry. I’m gonna need to borrow your bag for just a while longer, and then I’m comin’ straight back home, I swear. No more journies for a while, and you don’t need to put up with my broken and battered one any more, I swear I’m going to give you your satchel back.” 

Alfyn squeezed his eyes shut. Zeph didn’t even know what had happened. He probably thought he was off in Grandport or Flamesgrace or any of the other big cities they had looked at in maps and wondered what it’d be like to be there. He gripped the strap of his (Zeph’s) satchel and pressed it to his lips. He was going to get this done and then go back home to Zeph, before he made his friend worry for any longer. (Zeph may have Mercedes to keep him company now, but, well, good friends always did worry for each other.)

He took a few deep breaths and began to to walk forward. Alfyn was almost barreled over by a weight running into him a moment later. He turned around. “What in tarnation-”

“-I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t see where I was going.” Alfyn could only stare in shock as a much younger version of Zeph starred sheepishly up at him. “It’s my friend, you see, I need to go get my dad and-” The younger Zeph trailed off when he caught sight of the satchel he was still tightly gripping onto, his eyes lit up with recognition immediately afterwards. “-is that a medicine satchel? Sir, are you an apothecary?! You have to come with me, now.”

“I- wha!” He didn’t even have time to protest as small but strong hands grabbed onto his own and began to drag him in the direction of the familiar house he had passed. “Zeph, slow down a bit would ya, buddy? At least explain what’s goin’ on here!” 

“I told you, it’s my friend. He’s sick with whatever everyone else is catching around here and-” Zeph slowed and turned back to him with narrowed eyes. “Wait, I never told you my name, and I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve ever seen you around here. How did you know my name?”

Zeph had always been a sharp one, even when they were kids. There was a reason why Alfyn felt comfortable leaving Clearbook in Zeph’s hands, and it was because, between the two of them, he always felt like Zeph had been the better apothecary. As much as he hoped that the younger version of his friend would have let it slipped, he knew that there was no way Zeph, even a younger version of him, would have missed it. He gave a nervous chuckle. “Met a guy on the way in town that mentioned you. Village apothecary’s oldest kid and polite too, always hanging out with his good friend.”

“Mmm,” the young Zeph didn’t seem particularly convinced by his explanation, not that he would blame him, but fortunately did not press him any further. “Well, that’s me, Zeph. Who would you be, sir? It’s awfully impolite for you to know who  _ I _ am but not for me to know who you are.”

“Ah, well I’m Alf-”

“-Alfyn?!”

Alfyn’s lips twitched a bit at the excited look in the younger version of his friend’s face. Heh, of course he’d pick up on that too. “I was going to say Alfons actually. Alfons Mossbriar, nice to meet ya.”

“Oh.” The young Zeph seemed disappointed that he didn’t share a name a with his friend. Alfyn felt bad for him, and was almost tempted enough to explain everything to him. Almost, except that would ruin everything and might just jeopardize his way back. “Well, no matter. You’re an Alf too, and it must be good luck for me to come across another Alf when my friend Alfyn is so sick. This means that he’s going to pull through isn’t it?” The kid verson of Zeph’s eyes crinkled a bit as he beamed up at him. “Well, we’re here.” Before he knew it the younger Zeph had knocked on the door to his childhood home and was opening. “Mrs. Greengrass? I wasn’t able to get my dad but … I found another apothecary on my way here, can I come in?”

He exhaled slowly as he felt himself being pulled into the house by a younger version of his friend. Well, as Therion liked to say, he might as well get this over with.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Alfyn's Chapter 4 ahoy

The house, when he entered, was dimly lit but warm. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth and he could see a certain middle aged woman, younger than he last remembered seeing her but much more stressed, wiping away the sweat from the forehead of the figure on the bed. A familiar blonde figure on the bed. 

Alfyn froze on the doorway when he saw his mom again, worried, but alive. His lips formed the word ‘ma’ even as a younger Zeph tugged more insistently on his hand to pull him in. “Oh, shucks, sorry about that kiddo. This the friend that you been telling me about?” The door closed behind him with a loud thud as he stepped into the house. (Home, except not really.)

The woman sitting at the bedside looked up to them when she heard his voice. “Yep,” young Zeph chirped back, eerily cheerful despite the fact that his best friend lay close to dying on the bed. “That’s him, Alfyn Greengrass. Runt and troublemaker of the year, but my best friend.” Alfyn flinched back a bit when young Zeph looked up at him with pleading, wide eyes. (It was unfair, he could never say no to Zeph when he begged like that.) “You’ll help right, mister? Dad’s at his wits’ end trying to figure out what’s causing this and- and-” Alfyn could only watch in horror as the younger version of Zeph began to cry in front of him, finally letting go of his hands so he could wipe away the tears that welled up in his eyes.

The woman who had been sitting (Ma, he whispered in his thoughts) stood up and walked over to the two, pulling Zeph into a tight hug. “There, there, don’t cry now Zeph. You’ll see, this nice man will have Alfyn fixed up in no time.” Alfyn couldn’t help the small smile as he watched his ma comfort the younger version of his closest friend. Ma always was a kind and gentle soul like that. The woman looked up at him with a tired smile on her face. “I’m sorry, I haven’t introduced myself yet. My name’s Gerda Greengrass. Alfyn’s my son and Zeph’s best friend. You are?”

“Nice to meet ya Mrs. Greengrass, the name’s Alfons Mossbriar, I’m a traveling apothecary.” He made his way to the bed and the sickly boy laid there. Alfyn wondered what Primrose would say if she knew what he was doing. Well, he knew what she would say. She said as much to him before he set out on his journey to Clearbrook. ‘Do what you must, but make no rash decisions. We’re here to fix things that need to be fixed, not to change things to what we wish them to be.’ Alfyn repeated those words to himself as he sat down on the chair and began to take notes on the symptoms the boy (a younger him) was showing. “I’m guessing this is my patient Alfyn?”

“Ah, yes, that’s my son. He’s had a cough for the past few days but just recently he’s cramped up to the point he could barely move and those purple spots. We’re not sure if he’ll pull through, so many haven’t after developing the spots.” Alfyn grimaced as he noticed the familiar purple blotches on his patient’s arms. All of a sudden he found himself back on that road in Orewell, the sun setting on him and Ogen as he pulled up the older man’s sleeves. He jumped when he heard a voice from right behind him. “Do you know what’s causing it Alfons?”

Alfyn took a moment to catch his breath and looked to her with a nod. “Yeah, seen something just like this on my travels. Guy was pretty sick too, but I was lucky to get to him just in time. I don’t suppose you have a morter and pestle on you? I think I just so happen to have the same supplies on me, but-”

The two of them turned at the sound of the door opening and closing. Alfyn couldn’t helped but chuckle a bit when he noticed they were alone in the house, the younger Zeph must have left as soon as he had heard he needed something. Heh, they had been really close as kids weren’t they?

“Excuse me for intruding but-”

“-Hmmm?” He turned around at the sound of the woman’s voice addressing him. There was a warm smile on her face and he felt something inside both instinctively relax and tighten. “Something ya need?”

“No, not something I need as much as… hmm.” There was a wry turn to her grin and a sparkle in her eyes. “Alfons you say your name was?”

“Yes m’am.”

“Do your folks call you Alf as well? I can’t help but wonder. You look so much like my late husband, you know. I can’t help but wonder if my Alfyn would end up looking a little like you when he grows up.” Alfyn could only give the woman a bashful smile, suddenly unable to speak. (Yet knowing if he did open his mouth, everything would come out and he couldn’t have that happening.) “Another man also nicknamed Alf who looks almost exactly like my departed husband? It’s like a sign from the gods. I wonder if this means that Alfyn will make it out.”

“Heh, you know Zeph mentioned the same thing on the way here. Shucks, I’m just a simple traveling apothecary, not some kinda divine intervention from the gods.” He gave a lighthearted chuckle that he did not fully feel, and rubbed the back of his head. (It was a lie. He was some kinda divine intervention from the gods, well he and his friends. To come back here again, and in just the nick of time? What else could it possibly be but that?) “If my patient makes it out okay, that’s all I can ask for. I’m here to help those that need it after all.”

“Divine intervention you say,” the woman replied with a laugh to her voice. Alfyn couldn’t help but smile back, folk always did say he picked up his joy of life and kindness from his ma. “Mmm, maybe not from the gods, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Dohter himself guided you this way.” Alfyn look at the woman in surprise even as she chuckled at the expression on his face. “Dohter isn’t as well known as Alfreic, I’m sure, but surely that’s a god you’d be familiar with? Or is that a god only better known around these parts?”

“Actually-” The door slammed open right at that moment and he watched owlishly as a heavily panting Zeph placed a well used mortar and pestle into his hands.

“You know,” the younger version of his friend said a matter-of-factly. “You really need to be carrying those around if you’re gonna be on the road all the time. I’m sure you have to make all sorts of pastes and potions for people, but what use are you as a traveling apothecary if you need someone to be providing supplies to you all the time?”

A wry smile formed on Alfyn’s face. Always could trust Zeph to keep him honest couldn’t he? “One that’s misplaced his supplies one too many times and was on his way Bolderfall to replenish them. Now, if you’ll excuse me-” He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Zeph gaped at him slightly as he pushed himself out of the chair and over to the table. Carefully, Alfyn placed his satchel on the table and began to pull out the ingredients. A pinch of this, a sprig of that, a small handful of other things, and finally, the crown jewel, an Ogre Eagle feather from the Forest of Rubeh. 

The feather glimmered gold and red, a hint of deep emerald and sapphire at its base, in the light. Alfyn watched as the younger Zeph watched it with barely concealed interest and walked over to get a better look at it. “Don’t touch it, I’ll be needin’ that for the potion I’m gonna feed your friend,” he said as he crushed the other ingredients together. Alfyn ignored Zeph who watched him eagerly as he went about his business of making the potion.

It wasn’t until Alfyn picked up the feather to add a bit to the potion that Zeph spoke. “I’ve never seen anything like it, what bird is  _ that _ from.”

He grinned and shook his head. “A very big and dangerous that could eat kiddos like you for lunch. Good thing it’s not from around here is it?” He winked at the younger version of Zeph even as the young boy glared at him. Zeph looked ready to argue with him, but luckily the boy choose to bite his tongue. (Zeph always had been the better behaved of the two when they were young, younger him would have probably gotten into an argument already.) Still, the woman stood up from where she had been sitting at the young boy’s bedside and walked over to them to observe.

A good moment later, and with one final swish, the potion was done and he nodded at the two. “Okay, now time to feed this potion to him. Might take a while to do its thing, but he should be feeling as fit as a fiddle by morning.” The two of them looked visibly relieved at the announcement and he walked over to the boy at the bed and gingerly fed him the potion. He relaxed a bit when he noticed the boy’s breathing growing a bit easier. Good, the potion was working. “He’s starting to look a bit better already, now if you’ll-” A yawn cut off whatever else he was planning to say. Shucks, he was rather tired wasn’t he?

“You must be tired,” the woman said with a smile. “Ah, I’m sorry for keeping you so long, I had not realized how late it had gotten.”

He shook his head. “Not at all, m’am. Your son was sick and it’s my duty as a traveling apothecary to look after those who need help. I was just heading to the inn and-”

“-oh, is that so? Well why don’t you stay here for the night. It is rather late, don’t know if Kirsten will be up at this hour, and, well, I’d feel better if you were here in case Alfyn’s condition got worse.” 

It wouldn’t. He knew that it wouldn’t having lived through it, but that wasn’t exactly something he could tell the woman. Not without telling her exactly  _ why _ he knew that. “Aw shucks, you don’t have to do that for me, but I am feeling rather tired, so I’ll take you up on that offer.” The woman smiled at him and quickly readied a spare bed roll for him to sleep on. 

It wasn’t until he was falling asleep that he noticed that the younger Zeph had crawled into the boy’s bed and had curled himself around them. Heh, they really were close as kids weren’t they? He closed his eyes and let sleep take him. “Zeph,” he breathed out.


	3. Chapter 3

_He was standing in a field full of flowering and non flowering plants. A quick glance told him that all of the plants in the field had medical properties. Frowning, he walks along the path he’s standing on towards a hut in the distance._

_He stopped just outside the hut. There was a man gathering the plants around the hut. A familiar man. The man who saved him._

_He opened his mouth to speak but then stopped. No, that wasn’t right. There was something different about the man, something … more. “Dohter,” he asked the figure, once realization struck him, for who else would come to him in the guise of Graham Crossford, the man who had saved his life and who he epitomized as being everything an apothecary should be, than the god of healing himself?_

_The figure turned and smiled at him, the edges of his eyes crinkling a bit in mirth. “Alfyn.” Dohter’s voice was warm as he spoke. “Ah, how you have grown from a child who had the misfortune of falling grievously ill.” The figure began to sort through the herbs he had gathered, but Alfyn sensed that he was not yet done talking and so held his tongue. “Tell me, Alfyn, do you know why you were brought back to this time?”_

_“To right the wrongs of the past,” he guessed, remembering what Primrose had said. “We went through the ruins because someone was going to try to revive the sealed god and we were gonna undo that weren’t we? But we also had to make sure Graham Crossford got to his wife in time since that’s what set everything in motion for the unsealing?”_

_Dohter’s laughter boomed through the air and Alfyn couldn’t help but feel a little sheepish that what he said_ wasn’t _why he was brought back. “Mmm, that’s only part of it, but did you think that was the only reason why?” There was a twinkle in the figure’s eyes as he stared right at Alfyn. “Don’t you think the gate would have opened for you if it was_ just _Graham Crossford you had to assist?”_

_Gee, when it was put like that._

_“No Alfyn, my young disciple, you’re not just here to assist Graham. After all, as an apothecary you’re supposed to help those in need that you come across?” The figure chuckled and gave him a soft smile. The man’s shape and tone changed even as he spoke. “After all, aren’t there people you want help?”_

_Alfyn could only stare in shock as Zeph’s face stared back at him. “Zeph,” he whispered, almost unable to believe what he was seeing in front of him._

_Zeph smiled. “Wake up Alfyn, there’s someone that needs you.”_

……

“Mister?” Alfyn startled awake to someone tugging at his shirt. “Mister, are you awake? Mister?”

Well, he was awake now given how loud and insistent the person was. “Huh? Wha?” He blinked in confusion when he didn’t see anyone standing right in front of him, then he looked down to meet the face of a boy. A younger version of himself actually. Oh. “Didn’t expect to see you up and walking about so soon. Medicine worked really well didn’t it?” The boy beamed at him and nodded. “Did ya need something though?”

There was a pause as the boy blinked owlishly at him and then looked at the old medicine satchel he had with him. “Well, gosh, I was just wonderin’ what was in that potion. Zeph’s dad has been working on figuring out what was causin’ the sickness but couldn’t figure anything out. You can’t cure someone if you don’t know what’s causin’ it right?”

Alfyn chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Curious fella aren’t ya? Well-” He trailed off and pretend to look up at the ceiling as if to debate whether he could tell the boy or not. A moment later he nodded and looked down at the boy. “-I guess I could let you in on a secret or two, given you’re not a rival or anything.”

“Oh no sir,” the boy shook his head earnestly. “I don’t think I’m good enough to be competin’ with you.”

Clearly, he was a cheeky brat when he was younger, he thought to himself with a rueful smile. “Heh, well you say that now but, I get the feeling you’re going to be someone I’m goin’ to need to look out for.” He winked at the young boy and sat up on his bedroll. “Now, most of what was in that potion was nothing special. Something to help the cough and something for a fever. There was one thing though that was really special though.” He leaned back a bit as if to reminisce.

“Oh?” It was clear that he had piqued the boy’s interest. “What would that be sir?”

“Why, that’d be the feather of an Ogre Eagle.”

“An _Ogre_ Eagle?”

“Yep.” He nodded. “Imagine a bird as big as this house with fearsome claws and four feet. Massive wingspan and feathers that look to be all the colors of the rainbow. Dangerous beast that lives in the Forest of Rubeh to the north of here.” Alfyn watched as the boy’s eyes widened at the description. “Luckily for _me_ , I had a few good friends who were strong enough to fight the beast off and I was able to get a feather off the damn thing. Now, don’chya be thinkin’ of runnin’ off there to chase one now. Bird that big could sweep little boys like you off with one flap of its wings.”

“Whoa.”

“Whoa, indeed.” Alfyn smiled gently as he got out of the bedroll and began to guide the boy to the bed. “Now, why don’t we get ya back to bed. It’s still too early to be up and young boys need sleep if they wanna grow big and strong.”

“Okay.” Alfyn couldn’t help but chuckle at the disappointed tone the boy took with him.

He helped the boy into bed and tucked him in. “There you go, all comfy now hmm?” The boy yawned and nodded sleepily at him before drifting off to sleep. Alfyn grinned and shook his head. He was about to leave when something (or rather the lack of something) caught his eye.

Alfyn turned to look back at the bed. Huh, what did he know, Zeph wasn’t on the bed anymore. Maybe the woman was able to convince the kid to go home. He froze when he noticed something small and white half hidden under the pillow. What in the world?

Quizzically, he pulled the small white thing out from under the pillow. It was made of paper, he noticed, some kind of note maybe? Except it felt bulkier than just a single piece of paper, an envelope? It wasn’t until he was holding the envelope close enough to his face to read the neat text across the front that he realized what it was. ‘To Mercedes’, the text read in neat and familiar handwriting. This was Zeph’s letter to Mercedes! The one that he had forgotten to give to the girl when she had left their village.

Alfyn stood there in shook as he debated what to do with it. He could tear it into pieces. He never did give that letter to Mercedes, and, as far as he knew, Zeph had ended up writing another one to his sweetheart years later. A voice that sounded suspiciously like Therion’s whispered in his head that Zeph wouldn’t know any better if he destroyed it. Wouldn’t affect the timelines any either.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something that Primrose had mentioned to him offhand forcing him to still his hands. What if there was a reason why Zeph had asked Alfyn _specifically_ to give the letter to Mercedes? Even if Zeph wasn’t able to see Mercedes off, he could have given the letter directly to her at any time before then. A voice that sounded like Tressa’s whispered in his mind that he should open it. Maybe, he had written something embarrassing in there and he’d be able to use it for blackmail later. (Not that he wanted to blackmail Zeph, but he was curious about what was written.)

He frowned and let his hands fall to his sides, letter still firmly grasped in hand. Might as well figure out what to do with it in the morning. No point in worrying about an old letter in the middle of the night when he couldn’t even read it without disturbing someone. Alfyn slipped back into the bed roll and placed the letter carefully under the pillow. He wondered what Zeph was thinking when he had asked him to give the letter to Mercedes on the day she left. (The rest of his dreams that night were confused and troubling.)


	4. Chapter 4

In the early morning, before anyone else awoke, he quietly left the house he had stayed in overnight and made his way to the inn. After all, old Lars would be expecting him to be at the inn when he stopped by. Not wanting to trouble anyone, he had left a note on the table that he’d be leaving now and wouldn’t charge them a cent for the treatment. He also left some instructions on what to do if there was still a cough or if the fever didn’t fully go away, along with a vial of the potion that had saved the boy’s life in case there was flare up. 

Alfyn quietly whistled a tune to himself as he made his way to the inn, the bubbling of the river the only accompaniment. He grinned to himself as he caught the sight of the light breaking over the hills. It was always so peaceful in Clearbrook, untouched by war (but not by disease). He frowned to himself as he sat down on a patch of dewy grass in front of the inn. Now, what to do about the letter.

He frowned as he pulled the letter from one of the outer pockets in his satchel. He held it in front of his face. Mercedes. (It always led back to her in the end didn’t it?) Well, it wouldn’t be as much of a wild goose chase as it was before. He knew where she lived. Atlasdam wasn’t  _ that _ far away, and he could probably make it there to deliver the letter before the moon changed phase. Of course, he didn’t know where  _ exactly  _ she lived in Atlasdam, but it shouldn’t be that hard to find out. Right?

He cringed internally as he thought back to his memories of Atlasdam, all those buildings huddled together. Or maybe it would be exactly like a wild goose chase, except this time the goose was hiding in one of many possible hiding spots. 

There was always the option of tearing the letter apart, no one would miss it, but still- in the end he guiltily found himself opening the letter and pulling out the contents. Alfyn cringed and sent a mental apology to both Zeph and Mercedes. Hopefully, they hadn’t written anything embarrassing inside and would forgive him for his actions. He steeled himself for whatever he would read, but what he saw caused his jaw to drop instead.

There, in Zeph’s neat handwriting, on top of the page, was his own name. ‘ _ Alfyn. _ ’ This had to be some kind of mistake, he thought to himself as he flipped through the paper over. Why would Zeph address a letter to him that he wanted given to Mercedes? Was this some kind of sick joke in the event Alfyn pried into their private matters? 

He found a note to Mercedes on the back of the page. A barely half page note about how he’d miss having her around, and how he would be looking for books that they could read together, and to please contact him in the future, she knew where he would be. Yet there, at the very end, was a request that Mercedes hand the letter to Alfyn. He frowned. What in blazes was his friend thinking here?

Alfyn took a deep breath and began to read, half expecting something berating him, what he got made him blush instead. “I- gosh, Zeph I never knew. I’m sorry.” He closed his eyes and held the letter close to his chest. Heh, and here he thought that the letter Zeph left in his satchel was the most embarrassing thing he had read yet. That had nothing on the letter that Zeph asked him to give to Mercedes.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured to the wind. “I shoulda read it sooner, I didn’t know Zeph. If I did I woulda done something. Would’ve done something a lot sooner. I’m sorry I made you wait.” He put the letter away when he heard footsteps approach. Alfyn waved as the figure of Lars came into view. “Hey there Lars, good timing, I was waiting for you.”

“Ready already huh,” the farmer said when he reached him. “Here I thought that I’d end up having to get Kirsten to wake you up or something.”

“Shucks, I think I just got used to waking up early as a kid. Had to help all the farmer when planting and harvest season came around y’know. Complained about it all the time as a kid, but Ma always made sure I was up when I needed to be. Now I’m just used to it.”

Lars laughed as Alfyn stood up and followed the farmer to his home. “Ah, but it’s a good habit to have. The early bird gets the worm and all.” 

“Indeed.” Alfyn jogged a bit to keep up with Lars. For an old farmer, he sure did have a quick pace. (Although, Lars wasn’t as old as he was when he last saw him now was he?) “Can you tell me a little about the patient though? Is it the plague that’s been affecting everyone else or is it something else you’re worried about?”

Lars sighed and gave a bitter smile. “A bit of both, I guess. Julia, my wife, has always been a little weaker than most, but I couldn’t help but worry when she started dropping spoons and stuff two days ago. That’s the first sign that people have noticed. They start droppin’ everything like they can’t grip it strong enough, and then before you know it, they’re not able to move and there’s purple splotches all over them. By then, it’s too late and all you can do is make things comfortable for the sick.” Alfyn watched in concern as the farmer exhaled deeply and looked up at the sky. “Master Torvald has been trying his darnest to try to figure out a cure, but I just worry he’s making himself sick with all the effort. And that was before his wife started showing the symptoms.” 

“Egads, that sounds awful. How long has this sickness been going on for anyway?”

“At least a week now by my guess,” the farmer said as he stopped in front of a house at the edges of the village and began to open the door. “Over half the village has been infected and, well, the odds don’t look good.” A cough greeted the pair when Lars opened the door to his house. 

“That does not sound good,” Alfyn noted with a frown as he approached the woman coughing in the bed. 

Lars approached the pair with concern written all over his face. “How does it look?”

“Hmm.” Alfyn tested the woman’s gripping strength and listened to her cough. “I think I got to her in the nick of time, I don’t see any purple splotches on her skin yet. It’s the cough that I’m more worried about.” He listened to her chest one more time before he picked up his bag and started rifling through his things. “I’m going to get her something for the cough, and I think I have something for the muscle weakness.” 

“You have somethin’ for that?”

Alfyn laughed and gave Lars his brightest smile, one tinged with just a bit of pride. “Let’s say you weren’t the only one with a loved one who got sick with it, now if you’ll excuse me.” The act of making medicine had always been relaxing for Alfyn. Mixing and grinding stuff had always been an action of pure muscle memory which let his mind wander off to other things.

Things like Zeph’s letter for example. Folks always did say the past was past, and you couldn’t change it, but he had an opportunity now. One that he wasn’t going to let just slip through his fingers. (Zeph was too special to him for him to do that.) 

Alfyn was surprised when he saw the two elixirs sitting in front of him. The cure for the pestilence that plagued the village glowed golden in the morning light. The other, for the cough, had a faint bluish hue. Heh, gotta love that muscle memory huh? He held up the golden elixir first. “Okay, first this one to get her strength back.” 

The door opened suddenly right as he finished feeding some of the golden elixir to Julia. He looked to the entrance and saw a panting man standing there. At his side, a younger version of Zeph hiding behind his pants. Alfyn felt his smile freeze on his face when the younger version of Zeph noticed him. “Dad! That’s the man that cured Alf!” He watched as the kid tugged eagerly on his dad’s jacket.

Shucks, Zeph, did you have to say that out loud? He gave a nervous laugh when Zeph’s father fixed his gaze on him. “Shucks, it’s nothing special, really. Just happened to be passing by and saw some folks in need.” He yelped when he felt his hands being grabbed by the man and shook violently. 

“I must thank you, Master Alfons. My son told me about how you saved his friend last night. I stopped by Gerda’s house this morning and indeed her son is doing much better than before. The purple splotches have all but disappeared from his skin and-” Zeph’s father trailed off when he noticed the elixir he held in his hands. “-is this the medicine that cured her son?”

“Please, none of this master nonsense, Alfons is fine with me, and- yes, that is the medicine that cured-” He barely choked back the word Alfyn (which was better than saying the word ‘me’, Primrose would have his head if she heard him say that) in time. “-him.” He held out the elixir for Zeph’s father to take. “I heard you had someone special you wanted to cure. Here, take the rest of this, I reckon it’ll be just enough.” 

“Is it alright for me to take? It must be precious, such a cure-”

Alfyn shook his head. “-of course it’s fine. You have need of it don’t you?”

Zeph’s father gulped and nodded, a slight bit of fear in his eyes even as his fingers twitched out to the potion. “Of course, but how could I ever repay you for this? I’ve searched and searched, gone through every medical text I could lay my hands on, but I found  _ nothing  _ that could cure the disease that befell the villagers. This cure must be worth thousands but-”

“Heh, well I saw someone in a bind and I helped them out, simple as that.” Alfyn felt his lips curl into a grin as he uttered the words told to him by the man who saved him oh so long ago. The words he had come to live by. “You don’t need to pay me or nothing, I’m just doing my job as an apothecary.”

A bright smile spread across Zeph’s father face as he took the elixir from his hands. “Well, I’ll be. It’s as if the gods themselves sent you to our humble village. Thank you.” The man turned to leave, but turned to give him a look filled with curiosity. “You know Gerda mentioned you looked a bit like her late husband, and you do. You also seem to have a bit of Gerda in your looks too. My son, Zeph, mentioned to me that a man who was also named Alf saved Alf, his friend’s life, and that it must be a sign from the gods. I can’t help but wonder if there’s some wisdom to those words.” 

Alfyn had a wry smile on his face as he watched Zeph’s father and Zeph leave. Heh, maybe he should have taken a page out of Therion’s book and gotten something to hide his face. People would cotton on to what was happening before long (and he was sure Primrose would have something to say to that). 

As the pair left he watched as a young girl he recognized to be Mercedes stick her head inside the house to look around curiously. When Zeph called for her, she popped her head out and tagged after her friend. Heh, those two were close even then huh? A bittersweet smile spread across his face as he began to feed Julia the second elixir he made.

He nearly dropped it a moment later as the realization struck him. Mercedes wasn’t set to leave the village until  _ years _ after the Great Pestilence struck. Zeph couldn’t have  _ possibly  _ written the letter when he did. Then how did the letter get to be where it did?

Alfyn went through the rest of his routine in a daze and was out of the house before he knew it. He was about to walk back to his house to check up on the younger version of him, when he remembered the dream from last night. “There’s someone that needs you,” Zeph’s face had told him. He looked up at the sky. “Dohter? Are you looking out for me now?” 

He didn’t get a response, of course he didn’t. He shook his head and set off on his way, mulling over the mystery in his head and coming up without an answer. Strange. (But maybe best he leave it at that.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Press - for divine banter**
> 
> Sealticge: …  
> Dohter: …  
> Sealticge: Hmm, did you need something?  
> Dohter: … don’t play that game with me, dear. I know that letter was your fault.  
> Sealticge: Oh, was it now?  
> Sealticge: And this from the person who was not so subtly hinting that those two should be together?  
> Sealticge: Don’t try to hide it, Dohter.  
> Dohter: Ugh.  
> Steorra: (giggling)  
> Aeber: (… I can’t believe these guys.)


	5. Chapter 5

“Why’d you save me? We ain’t got no money or anything.”

It had been two long days of working with Zeph’s dad, but finally the Great Pestilence had been driven from the village. Now was the time to grieve for those that were lost and recover from what had happened. Still, he couldn’t help but grin when he heard that question. The same one he had asked so long ago.

He crouched down and placed a hand on the boy in the bed’s forehead (just as Graham had done so many years ago). “Now listen son, and listen well, I saw someone in a bind and I helped them out, simple as that.”

“That’s it?”

He nodded. “That’s it.” Alfyn stood up slowly and looked to the woman, Zeph stood stoically at her side, his young eyes focused on the boy in the bed. “Well, I’ll be taking my leave now, I’m glad to have been able to get everyone in Clearbrook fixed up, but I really need to be headed to Orewell now. There’s- someone that needs me there.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. “I was certain that would be the last I would see of my son, but you saved you. There’s nothing that I could do that would ever repay you for what you have given me. Not that you would accept it anyway, I feel.”

Alfyn laughed. “Hey, don’t mention it. I’m just here to help, seeing your son and the people of this village happy and healthy is all the payment I need. Take care now.”

The woman grinned softly and nodded. “You take care too, Alfons. I have a feeling there are people that care for you and would want to see you happy and healthy too.” 

He chuckled and nodded before he walked out of the house.

“Hey mister!” He turned at the sound of the familiar voice. “You forgot your bag here!”

Alfyn shot his younger self a bright self. “Keep it. Didn’t ya tell me you were going to be an apothecary when you grew up? I want you to take that bag and help as many people as you can, you hear me?” (This too, had been planned from the beginning. Something that Primrose had mentioned offhand before he left. He was going to miss having Zeph’s satchel on him, and he’d hope his dearest friend would forgive him, but he had a travel bag with all the supplies he needed and Zeph’s letter. That would have to be enough.)

The door shut softly behind him, his last view of the boy on the bed being that of a younger Zeph hugging the living daylights out of his friend. He couldn’t help but smile at that image. They would grow up to be good friends, perhaps even more. Alfyn thought to the small note he left for his younger self in the satchel. It was hidden in one of the inner pockets of the satchel, one that he’d no doubt find while going through everything in there (besides it was by one of the medical books it was only a matter of time before it was found), and it told him all that he needed to know without revealing anything about the future or the letter he had found. (Specifically, it told the younger him that Zeph’s favorite flower was cluster of small blue buds that could be found on the river banks and whose leaves smelled of mint. It also said that Zeph could be found sometimes in a clearing in the forest outside of the Cave of Rhiyo just outside the village, perhaps he could pick a few flowers and meet Zeph there.)

He never did figure out how that letter came to be, but, he thought with a grin as he looked to the sky, it had to be some kind of divine intervention huh?

……

 

Zeph had always liked to come to the clearing in the forest in the middle of the night. One would think that he would be scared of the monsters that lurked in the woods, but he never was. None of the children who grew up in Clearbrook were. 

It was calming in the woods and gave him space to think. Best were the nights when the full moon was out and he could read whatever he wanted all by himself. 

This was one of those nights. He sat in the middle of the clearing with a book out, not expecting any company. Try as he might, he barely finish the page he was on, his thoughts filled with turmoil. He bit his lip and tried to relax but couldn’t. 

The sound of a branch snapping made him look up. Whatever Zeph was about to say died in his lips when he saw who it was. The surprised look on his face quickly morphed into one of joy. “Alfyn! What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, heard that you could be found here and thought you might like the company.” There was a flush on the other boy’s flush and he couldn’t help but brighten when he noticed the clump of bright blue flowers in his friend’s hands. At the same time he felt his face start to grow warm. Did this mean- “I, uh, noticed you liked these flowers,” Alfyn said quickly when he noticed Zeph staring at his hands. “Thought you might want some.”

Zeph felt his heart beat heavily in his throat as Alfyn came closer and finally sat down in front of him. The flowers were carefully placed on the ground next to the book. Before Alfyn could pull his hand away, he placed his own hand over Alfyn’s. “Read with me?”

“S-sure. What’chya reading there? Looks long.”

Zeph laughed, both at his friend’s obvious embarrassment and words. “It’s not that long, silly. It’s just a book of myths and legends. Look I’ll even read one out for you.” He forced his voice not to tremble when Alfyn sat next to him and interlaced their fingers together. Before long the two got lost in the moonlight, and the story, and the ambiance.

When it was finally done, Zeph looked up from the book to find Alfyn staring right at him.

“It’s a good story,” Alfyn said finally, his eyes bright and shining in the moonlight. He felt himself leaning forward, almost as if enraptured by his friend’s gaze. Alfyn gulped before he too began to lean forward. “You have a nice voice.”

“Thanks,” he whispered breathlessly, before his eyes slid shut and their lips met in a soft kiss. (It was perfect. Everything he could have wished for.) 

Both their cheeks were flushed with red when they finally pulled away. 

“Next time, we’re going to have to sneak some tea or something huh,” Alfyn quipped a moment later. “Your voice is a little hoarse from talking so long.” 

Next time huh? Zeph blushed harder just at the thought. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

The two boys then wordlessly got up from the clearing, Zeph tucking the book under one arm, as they walked home, hand in hand.

……

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” He turned and gasped when he saw the satchel on the table. It was a very familiar satchel, one that he had carried for so long and didn’t think he would see again. “How did you-”

Primrose just grinned and cocked her head to the side. “You like it then? Hmm, let’s just say I have my ways.”

She walked off without another word as Alfyn pulled the satchel to him and buried his face in it. Zeph’s satchel. He had thought it gone after he left it with the younger him. (He spared a brief thought for the younger him and hoped Primrose didn’t get Therion to steal the satchel off the kid or something.) “Zeph,” he murmured into the bag. “I’m coming back home, and when I do-” He sighed and closed his eyes. “-I’m going to tell you everything. I swear. Wait for me, okay buddy?”

**Author's Note:**

> I know this fic says it's part 1 of a series, but this is really intended to be an interlude/sidestory to the main story. So, expect this to be a standalone fic


End file.
